I can’t go to bed tonight without writing something.
For months, I have been hankering to get rid of my belongings.
I have clothes that could be fun to goof around in, but I won’t need them for a job or any social function.
There’s that whole deal with wanting to keep something because it will come to use. Everyone knows about that. Like the fuchsia exercise shorts I gave to Good Will last summer. I saw a picture of them and thought, “I’d love to run in those right now.” But who cares? I have other shorts I can run in, and I can find mental variety rather than variety in the clothes I wear.
At some point, I’ll move to an apartment, and I won’t want it to be filled “from the crown to the toe top-full” (Shakespeare’s Macbeth, Act I, Scene V).
I’ll write more on this later! I just needed to write something.
"Ain't nobody dope as me. I'm just so fresh so clean."